


I'm the Hole in your Heart

by ViceCaptain



Series: The Daily Prompt Archive [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Daily prompt, I ain't making spoilers, IT WAS THE PROMPT OK, M/M, One of the boys is dead, big sad, but like don't read if you don't want to be sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViceCaptain/pseuds/ViceCaptain
Summary: What's the angstiest fic you can imagine? Something that'll make people cry their eyes out? Go write it in less than 1k words!
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: The Daily Prompt Archive [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185821
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Shyan Shipping Society Daily Prompts





	I'm the Hole in your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so, I had a bunch of ideas for this prompt, but in the end, picked the most hopeless? The most "there's no way back", I'd say. This is not part of a WIP. Just a quick drabble to fill in the prompt for super angsty stuff. I hope it fulfills it properly.

“This is stupid,” Shane mumbles to himself, but it fills the empty room.

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat, he glances at his reflection in the big mirror and quickly looks away. He looks pale, black circles around his red eyes, hair’s a mess. He feels gutted. Emptied.

He looks like he’s wasting away. Like he’s disappearing… If only that was the case, at least he would stop feeling like something is pulling out his insides all the time, every day.

“If… If you’re still here, please…” he says, voice somewhat louder, but still weak and shaky. He barely recognizes himself.

A helpless sob leaves his mouth and Shane swallows against the painful knot in his throat, forcing the violent surging of despair back down.

“Ry.” He calls and the silence is deafening. The emptiness suffocating. The hole left in him, in his life, crippling.

“Please,” he begs, choking on more forceful sobs, “prove me wrong. Just this time. Just… This one time.”

Boiling hot tears roll down his cheeks and he covers his face with both hands, crying silently into them. He can’t keep looking at that room, still filled with Ryan’s things… Now they are nothing but objects and it almost feels like a foreign space.

If Ryan isn’t there it’s just… A place. An empty, hostile husk that can’t be reached by the sun anymore. Like debris floating away into deep space.

And Shane is like a festering wound in the middle of it: feeling dead and pulsing with pain at the same time, eaten away by the widening void Ryan left in him.

It’s been a week since the funeral and he hadn’t been able to cry, until now. It had been too much, too painful, and no one’s place to see him grieving such a loss. As he had no place among family and relatives, nor could he fit among the friends. He was in his own lonely bubble of grief.

But even now, Shane wishes he was able to wail and scream, it would mean there’s still some fight left in him. Instead, he silently crumbles and comes apart at the seams. Defeated.

“P-please.” He begs once more, against his better judgment, against what he knows is the truth. He still can’t believe in ghosts or the afterlife, but, God, does he wish to be made a believer now. And if there ever was anyone that could hope to get anywhere close to it, that would have been Ryan.

Especially now that Shane would be ready to drop to his knees for even the smallest sound, for the tiniest draft to graze his nape. Whatever stupid fucking ‘sign’, just to have the slightest illusion of hope, even though it doesn’t mean a fucking thing and won’t bring Ryan back.

“I only ever believed in us,” he whimpers, “And now even that is gone. I don’t want to be right about this.” He tells the empty room.

\-------------------------

“ _This_ is stupid,” Ryan says, watching from the corner of the room that used to be his.

He yelled and cried and screamed. He called and reached. He shouted himself hoarse.

But he can’t make himself be heard by Shane. He can only watch and listen while the other crumples on himself and _begs_. If there ever was a person that he couldn’t picture begging, not even to save his own life, that would be Shane.

Ryan would rather he never saw that, he decides.

To hear him call his name like that is tearing him apart and even though he doesn’t have a body anymore, the pain splits his soul in two.

“I’m here,” he repeats for the thousandth time, “Shane, I’m here. Please, hear me.”

Ryan stifles a sob when he reaches a hand and it goes right through Shane’s shoulder causing no reaction. What is the point to linger after his death if he can’t even give a sign to Shane.

He can’t do anything and the worst thing is that Shane is suffering like that because of him. And he _can’t do a fucking thing_.

Shane sobs ‘please’ over and over, wants to be proved wrong, wants something, anything. And Ryan can’t give that to him. He took everything away from him with his death and now has to watch Shane quietly splinter beyond repair.

“Please, stop.” He pleads, voice breaking. Ryan can’t watch the love of his life so defeated by his own grief. Silently shattering into million tiny pieces, unseen, unable to be reached by anything, imploding into himself. Turning into sand that gets swallowed by the gaping hole Ryan left behind.

Ryan wishes he could just disappear if that’s what it means to linger. Wishes he could vanish and take Shane’s pain with him.

“J-just… Forget me.” He begs as well. As painful as that would be, it still would be nothing compared to all that, “Forget me, Shane.”

His voice is quaking more than Shane’s shoulders while he sobs in his hands. Ryan tries again to touch him, combs his fingers through the other’s hair. An empty gesture, a travesty of affection. But he can’t stop trying to reach.

Is this going to be eternity for him? Witnessing Shane’s downfall while he perpetually extends his hands, his will, his soul? Never to graze him again?

What is the point of staying behind? What is the point for there to be ‘more’ after death if ‘eternal nothingness’ would be better than this?

Ryan fights to stifle more sobs and wraps his impalpable arms around Shane, pleading and begging just as much as the other right now. He never wished so much to be in the wrong, that he could just disappear and take any remnants of what they had away with him.

“Let go of me, big guy.” Ryan whispers, “Don’t go looking for something more. I don’t want to be right about this.”

Tears drop from his eyes and dissolve into thin air.


End file.
